


SOLACE

by enigmaarchives



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Water Nymph, batfamily, naiad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 05:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaarchives/pseuds/enigmaarchives
Summary: Solace is centered on Bruce Wayne and how he has come to be the man he is today, how his inner worlds takes place, and how underneath the mask and cowl, he is still mortal. It explores a different side of the vigilante who is often portrayed as indestructible and more often than not forgotten, if ever known at all, to be human.To be Batman, no doubt, takes a tremendous amount of discipline, power, and willpower, but for all his wit and luck, Bruce Wayne is still human at the end of the day.





	SOLACE

The first time she met Bruce Wayne, she had wide eyes and a thirst for all things new. She was a kid. It was only natural to be curious. Her mentors, however, begged to differ and often confined her to world underwater. _Men were dangerous_ , they said. _Often feared what they didn’t understood which almost always results to violence._

Her mother always told her to heed everyone’s warnings. Naiads were often known to manipulate men but not of their own kind. She could trust her own kind to look after each other.

“ _They just want what is best for you love_ ,” mother would reason. The young water nymph would always pout in response. It’s not that she disagreed with them _completely_. It was jus that she knew there was more to life than this—especially since when naiads were said to live a couple of centuries on a minimum. She was just tired of the same aquatic environment. She wanted something new.

With all their warnings in mind, she still ventured out in secrecy. She was curious but she wasn’t stupid. Each time she had gone up the surface, she made sure she was at a place where she couldn’t be easily seen.

The naiad soon discovered a place she grew fond of. It was beside a house by a lake which appeared to be oddly abandoned. It didn’t look old. In fact, it looked lovely. No one was just ever there. The water was calm and crystal clear. There was an abundance of flowers which she absolutely loved due to the garden beside the quiet house. She had sent _thank you’s_ in her head to whomever planted them there. And as if all of this weren’t perfect enough, she would get an animal visitor every now and then, often a bunny or a squirrel. The most important part was that she was safe. It seemed a pretty good compromise between what she and her mother had wanted.

She would visit often and lounge at the lakeshore. Sometimes, she would get out of the water and explore but never too far. It wasn’t as adventurous as she had pegged but it was different and she was more than happy with what she had.

Rarely was there something new with her secret place so when she saw odd items by the shore, it had gotten her attention immediately. The moment she popped her head up from the water, she squinted, immediately noticing the red blanket by the shore. It was only about a foot or two away from the water. As she got closer, she saw that there was a book and a pen. She stepped on the land and her skin slowly faded from a pale blue to a fleshy pink. Her hair retained to its onyx shade and her almond eyes as well. 

The naiad reached out for the book. It was brown and it looked old, she noted. There were was something sticking out in between the pages. Carefully, she opened it to see a passage underlined.

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.” She recited softly. 

“It’s Great Expectations by Charles Dickens,” a voice told her.

The naiad jerked her head up and saw a boy. She only got a few seconds to get a good look at him before all of her instincts kicked in and told her to run, well, _swim_ away. Dark hair, blue eyes.

“It’s my dad’s favorite book. Do you like it?” He asked with a soft smile. 

In response, the water nymph threw the book back into the blanket and turned to jump back into the water. Once in the water, she was at a crossroads in her head. On one hand, her heart was palpitating out of her chest, like war drums. On the other, she was curious. The youngling had never seen a man up close before, or a child for one. 

“Hey, come back!” The boy called out. “I don’t want to hurt you. Promise!”

_Don’t be stupid,_ she thought. _If you get killed, mother will bring you back to life just to tell you she told you so and then kill you again_. The naiad started to swim away from the shore, convincing herself that it was better to be safe.

“I just want to be friends,” he shouted one more time. 

She paused and contemplated. It _was_ something different. Hadn’t she been the one to always say that there must have been more to life than what she had underwater? The top of her head poked through the surface while the rest of her was submerged. She was curious, not stupid.

You look different,” the boy said, cocking his head to the right. “I mean, you look human, but you look sort of _wet_ , like your skin is dripping.”

“It’s because I’m a naiad,” she replied a matter-of-factly, gradually gravitating back towards the shore with great caution and curiosity.

“Naiad? Is that your name?” He asked, sitting down with ground. The tops of his shoes were barely avoided by the water. It was an attempt to reach out to her and making sure of her comfort at the same time.  

She shook her head. “It’s—its not.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes,” she answered, contemplating whether it was wise to tell him her name. He looked harmless enough. He doesn’t seem to have any bad intentions.

Sensing her hesitation, the boy extended his hand out and smiled. “I’m Bruce Wayne.”

“Moselle,” she finally said. Her heart stopped drumming and was replaced by a sense of euphoria. “Nice to meet you, Bruce.”

\--

The early morning was greeted by thundering footsteps down the staircase. They were steps of young boy who was more than eager to spend the day outside. Bruce landed on the foot of the stairs, triumphant as if the steps were a monster and his going down was a glorious feat. He looked like he was ready to go for a swim. He was wearing a shirt with red and white stripes and black shorts.

“Bruce is awake,” Thomas called out to his wife in the other room, looking up from his newspaper. He raised a brow at the sight of his son, amused at the energy his boy had so early in the morning. “And already dressed apparently. Good morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, father,” he greeted his parent’s presence with a smile and then rushed to the kitchen. “Good morning, mother,” he beamed, sniffing the air. The entire room smelled like blueberry waffles and cream cheese. He peeked over the counter and saw breakfast, not too far from his reach. They were made to be like sandwiches, folded in the middle with cream cheese in between. His mother must have done this knowing that he wouldn’t be staying indoors long in the morning. He snatched one up and wasted no time in devouring the sandwich.

“Mmm, waffles,” he sighed through his teeth and food. Deciding that Moselle might’ve never tasted waffles, he grabbed an extra two to share with her later. 

“Where is my darling boy off to today?” Martha asked. Her voice was sweet and warm. She took the waffles from her son’s hands and packed it into a container to avoid turning it into a mush. Granted it would have smelled delicious, but however it wouldn’t be as much appealing if it had been reduced to a blue and brown mashed waffle.

“I’m going to play with a friend today,” Bruce answered, trying to hide the excitement from his face and failing.

“Let me guess—Moselle again?” Martha raised her brow with an amused smile. She couldn’t lie. Martha Wayne was intrigued with her son’s friend. Despite hearing him rave about this Moselle for weeks now, she had never seen the girl. Bruce had reasoned that she was shy with adults and people in general, but Martha would always bring up the idea of inviting her over for lunch or dinner—whichever the preferred. It was nice to see her son to have a friend and to see him happier than usual. God knows that manor back in Gotham was so big and sulky for a boy his age. She wanted to at least thank this mystery friend with a good meal at least.

“Lucky guess,” Bruce grinned with crumbs around his mouth. He quickly packed up his things in a black backpack and quick gave Martha a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go, Mother. See you later.”

And with that he rushed out of the door. She could still hear her son’s heavy footsteps on the way out.

\-- 

“Moselle!” Bruce shouted as he ran to the dock. He set his backpack down and brought out a book. He had promptly taken off his sandals and sat down at the edge with his legs swinging. He surveyed the water once more. It was sunny and the water was calm. 

“Mosey, you guppy! Come out already!”

For a few moments, nothing happened. Bruce scowled and breathed in before getting splashed by lake water in the face. The naiad’s head poked through the surface. She looked like a water zombie thing again. Her entire body looked human for the most part except she looked like she was melting and had a turquoise tint.

“Geez, Wayne, you’re scaring all the fish,” she rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. Moselle climbed up to the dock in one push. Her body stopped dripping and gradually solidified. In a matter of minutes, she looked like a normal girl save for her clothes. She looked like she was going to a costume party or had eco-warriors for parents. Her dress retained its scaly look which glistened under the sun.  When they had met and climbed out of the water, Bruce couldn’t stop poking her out of disbelief. She was bombarded with questions like could she leave the water forever, how she breathed down here and what was it like, and so on.

“Hmm, not sorry. You were doing it on purpose.” The boy concluded. She only grinned in response. “Mom made these. Have you ever had waffles?”

“No,” she answered as Bruce handed her one. She inspected it and took a whiff. It was a golden orange-ish color with specks of blues.

“Don’t worry, Mosey. It’s not made of fish.” He smirked, already halfway through his.

Contented, Moselle took a bite and felt her mouth melt. “Gods,” Moselle moaned. ‘It’s _so_ good, Wayne.” The boy laughed and handed her the container. He made a gesture to say that the last piece was hers.

She had never tasted anything like it before. She took another bite. Her eyes involuntarily closed as she savored the taste. Why didn’t her village down under make something so good?

“What’s this white thing?” She asked, swabbing a sample with her finger before tasting it. “It’s good.”

“It’s cheese. Cream cheese.” He answered. “They come from cows.”

“Really? Cows?” She raised her brow. Bruce smiled. It has always been like this ever since they met. They took turns bringing something from the other person’s world. That way, they learned about each other as well.

Last time Moselle brought him what looked like cupcakes made out of whatever green stuff was there. She told him that a certain part of the nymph community was centered on healing and just a bite from the cupcake she had brought him would instantly make him feel better.

_It’s good for your skin too_ , she added, laughing. _Makes you prettier._ Moselle had winked at him and gave him his second gift that day. It was a tiny book about nymph tales, kind of like nursery rhymes for man but more magical. He thanked her and had kept the book in his bag so he wouldn’t forget it when he leaves.

“Yes, cows. It goes through a process, of course, but it requires the milk from cows. The main ingredient.”

“Fascinating.” Moselle nodded as she ate the last piece of her sandwich. “That was _de_ -li-cious, as always, Bruce!”

“Mom made them,” he answered. “She was asking about you again. Do you want to come over for dinner later?”

Moselle furrowed her brows and looked into the water. “Hmm, is that a good idea?” She asked. “I mean, you know. Nymph and all. 

“I’ve thought about it honestly. You look like a pretty normal human girl when you’re out of the water. And your body of water is _literally_ beside my house. My parents are good people so you don’t have to worry about getting hurt. I mean, you’ve known me for at least three years now. So that leaves us the biggest problem we have is your clothes. They look _odd_ so we might have to get some new ones in town later.”

She raised her brow. “That’s quite a strategy,” Moselle answered. “And actually good.”

Bruce shrugged with a smile. “I try.”

The girl only rolled her eyes. “You know you’re too smart for your own good, right?” She teased, playfully punching him on his arm.

“Again, I try.” He replied. “So what do you say?”

She was hesitant no doubt. Her mother barely even knew about Bruce so she wasn’t sure about two new humans in her social network. But these two humans weren’t just strangers. They were Bruce’s parents. They _raised_ Bruce. Bruce is literally the product of their two personalities. How bad could they be?

Besides, she remembered the first time she had met the boy. She was always eager for something new and different. She was always pushing herself out of her comfort zone. 

“Hmmm,” Moselle tapper her chin with her pointer finger. “Will there be waffles and this ‘cream cheese’?”

Bruce laughed. “Those are breakfast food, you Guppy.”

\--

It was the last day of the month. The Waynes were nearly packed up and ready to go. _We’ll leave first thing in the morning_ , Mr. Wayne had said. Bruce tried to negotiate for one more day or half at least. The days have passed so quickly and even though the two kids hardly slept all summer, somehow there was still a shortage of time.

Martha had laughed but she sided with Thomas. _I’m sorry, my little angel_ , she said. _But your father has to attend to business matters. We have responsibilities back in Gotham_. The kids sighed in defeat. Bruce knew there was no winning this one. Instead they went off to swim and made the most out of their last day.

Their backs pressed against the very blanket when they had first met each other. It became a tradition that on the last day they’d spend together, they would have a picnic on their sacred blanket and one of them would read random passages from whatever book Bruce was reading at that time.

“Hey, Mosey?” Bruce said softly, still looking at the sky. The naiad turned to face him and noticed how the soft glow of the sun made him radiant. It looked like she was seeing his energy and it only emitted of happiness. 

“Yeah?” 

“I miss you already.”

She had literally felt her heart skip a beat. Naiads, often known for their games, had an idea of what love is albeit it came quite rare and only for the lucky few. So what was she feeling? There were butterflies in her stomach. Moselle wanted to inch closer and steal a kiss. If it wasn’t love, it had to be _something_.

She shrugged the idea off with a smile. They had been seeing each other every summer. It’s been like that for the past years and it felt like it was always going to be like that. Besides, she hardly thinks Bruce, as intelligent as he was, was at an age where he would appreciate a kiss.

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, redirecting her attention back to the sky. It was a dark blue now and since they were away from the city, the stars were starting to show. In a matter of seconds, there were already millions who have revealed themselves to the night sky. 

“I’ll see you soon, Bruce Wayne.” The naiad smiled. Her lips spoke of a wordless promise. Her eyes sparked with a certain mystery that one couldn’t resist. “Next summer will be better than the last. You’ll see.”

Sure, naiads were meant practically made to seduce men, so she had an idea of how the birds and the bees worked despite her age but at that moment she was just a little girl with her friend enjoying their last sunset for that summer. It had been another good month of wonder and adventure. To be so young and blissful was rare in a lifetime and she chose to let their (or at least his) innocence last a little longer. 

\--

Moselle sat on the dock and waited patiently. It’s been a week now. Sure, this has never happened before but Bruce came _every_ year and he never faltered. She looked up to the skye as the sun started to set. The colors slowly faded from yellow to orange to a deep blue. As the sun sank, it felt like her heart sank as well—which was funny considering she was an entity that couldn’t drown. 

It was another day down and still no sign of the Waynes. She let a sigh escape her lips. It was a weird feeling to have looked forward to summer for months and be left hanging. It was a new experience. Different even, but it was not the kind she liked.

Turns out, her mother was right. Men _would_ hurt you but not in the way they had expected.


End file.
